Avoidance
by Beechfield Eros
Summary: Everyone has returned to their respective homes after battling a final enemy, but all is not well in Kyoto. Aoshi has been avoiding Misao, and it is frustrating her. But what will she do about it? One-shot AoshixMisao; The update is just a small change.


This was something I wrote for a friend who wanted an AoshiXMisao fic. There was an almost M rated version, but it probably could have been rated T. I only changed a few lines, so you're not missing out on anything.

**Note:** This is a re-post; OCD person that I am, I found things in here that bothered me, so I changed them. They're very small.

Hope you enjoy! Please review!

~Beechfield

**Disclaimer: **I do not own Rurouni Kenshin or any of the characters, so don't sue me (I'm pretty much broke anyway).

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Avoidance

Stoic. That was how most people who encountered Shinomori Aoshi would describe him. Sometimes, the lack of reaction the man showed was absolutely maddening. Makimachi Misao knew this. She watched as, time and time again various women had tried and failed to attract the attentions of her guardian, her Lord, and her love. Oh, there had been a few women, when Misao had been younger and Aoshi was traveling more often, but none of them had lasted more than one night. Lately, ever since Aoshi had come home for good, things had felt different. Misao could not quite put her finger on it, but she was certain that _something_ had happened to change her Aoshi-sama and how he acted around her. The question was, what had she done wrong?

Recently, her Aoshi-sama had been...distant. There was no other word for it. The little touches she had secretly enjoyed, his fingers on her shoulders as he helped her adjust her uniform, the little gestures that he made as easily and unconsciously as breathing had all gone away. Misao had thought that, once he had come to terms with himself and his actions, his behavior towards her would return to what it had been before he left. But even after they had all come back, miraculously alive after battling Yukishiro Enishi, her Lord was just as distant with her as he was towards everyone else; he held everyone around him at arm's length, refusing to allow anyone to become close. Gone were the days when he would drop by the courtyard to spar hand-to-hand with her, or the days when he would surprise her with a trip into town on some mysterious errand during which he would purchase a sweet treat for her. Instead, he refused to touch her, and went so far as to be sure that they were never alone together in a room. In fact, the few times she had managed to corner him he had coldly side-stepped her inquiries and all but dismissed her.

However, each time before he sent her away, a curious change had come over her Lord. Aoshi's eyes had darkened to a burning intensity and a very faint emotion shadowed his features, one that Misao could not quite place. The air between them suddenly become thick and charged and Misao found herself breathless and and very aware of him. But as fast as it came, her Lord's expression returned to the expressionless stoicism that was so often viewed on his features and Misao found herself obeying his dismissive body language while feeling inexplicably rejected. The second time this had happened, Aoshi had disappeared to the temple for the next two days and Misao had not tried again since. Things will be different, she vowed to herself. Misao warily watched Aoshi's retreating back as he walked down the path leading away from the Aoiya. She would make things different.

Two weeks later, the Aoiya received a wedding invitation. Himura had finally lay the past, along with his wandering days, to rest and decided to move forward. He and Kaoru were getting married. _Well_, Misao thought, _it was about time_.

Kenshin and Kaoru had wanted a small celebration with only their close friends, the people he and Kaoru considered family. The date was set so that Misao and Aoshi had about two weeks to put things together in Kyoto before they had to leave for Tokyo. Misao was excited. Aoshi wanted to set out early and travel by foot. He had mentioned visiting the graves of the Oniwabanshuu on their way to Tokyo.

Within one week of receiving the invitation, Aoshi and Misao had left Kyoto to begin the trek to Tokyo. They kept to the paths and traveled during the day, now that the danger of Enishi was no longer present. Most of the trip was uneventful. The pair fell easily into the faithful routine they had become accustomed to during the the years they had traveled together with the rest of the Oniwabanshuu. Their fast pace ensured that they would reach Tokyo with enough time to visit the graves before attending the wedding.

Conversation was mostly one-sided during the trip, as it usually was with Aoshi. However, the night before she and Aoshi paid their respects to Aoshi's friends and comrades, Misao found herself listening as Aoshi talked. They were cleaning up after dinner when he suddenly began to speak, somehow missing the soothing wash of Misao's constant chatter.

"They died bravely," Aoshi started, causing Misao's startled eyes to catch his own. He never talked about that night to anyone, much less her. He looked up at her. "They would be happy, knowing that you named yourself Okashira to continue our work."

Misao smiled, pleased that he trusted her enough to talk about this with her. "I'm glad," she told him quietly.

Aoshi nodded and continued. "When they died, I...I wanted to honor them. The highest honor I could think of at the time was to be able to lay Battousai's title on their graves." His voice took on a slightly dry quality; so subtle that only one who had been trained to pick up those minute nuances would have been able to hear. "It is a good thing he stopped me from making a complete fool of myself. My men would have been very angry with me if I had died."

Aoshi was standing at her side, one hand on her shoulder. "They are all very proud of you, Misao," he told her, brushing a renegade strand of hair out of her eyes. "You have grown up so much," he whispered.

It could have been the firelight, but Misao thought that she saw his eyes take on a odd quality, an emotion she had never seen there before but utterly different from the smoldering heat back in Kyoto. Before she could think a response to his sudden speech, Aoshi stepped away.

"We should sleep," he said quietly. "Tomorrow will be a long day."

With that, Misao agreed whole-heartedly. She pondered his words as she climbed into her futon; what had brought that on?

- ~ -

The wedding went, for the most part, smoothly. Sano and Megumi had come, along with Tae, Tsubame, and Yahiko. The only glitch that occurred was when, a day before the ceremony, no one could find Kenshin. Apparently Himura's old master, Hiko Seijuro, had showed up and dragged Kenshin off over something. Kaoru was the only person, strangely, who was not panicking over the missing groom. She had simply smiled and stated that he would be exactly where he should be tomorrow.

When she and Aoshi had arrived, Misao, Megumi and Tae had whisked Kaoru away from all the preparations to spend an hour in the furo relaxing before they finished fitting her mother's kimono for the wedding. Tae, the more domestic of the three, had done the minute altercations the silk kimono required for Kaoru, while Misao did her nails and Megumi did her hair and make-up. They had laughed and joked, taking some of the nervousness away from Kaoru as they diverted her thoughts from her impending wedding night.

The most memorable moment of the wedding, in Misao's opinion, was the dumbstruck expression on Kenshin's face when he saw Kaoru appear from inside the Dojo. She was stunning in her mother's midnight blue kimono with fine silver embroidery along the hem and sleeves, highlighting the silver flecks sparkling in her eyes. Vows were said and drinks exchanged. Tae and the Akabaeko provided the food and sake, and everyone, Sano especially, made a point to toast the new couple.

The sun was beginning to set when a smiling Dr. Gensei took Ayame and a yawning Suzume home, bidding everyone goodnight. Sano had been drunkenly alternating between teasing Kenshin and trying to convince Megumi to come home with him for some private celebration of their own. Soon after Dr. Gensei, Tae took Tsubame and Yahiko, who was now staying at the Akabaeko, back for the night and Megumi dragged off a very drunk, but not quite passed out, Sano. As Misao and Aoshi left, Misao looked over her shoulder to see Kenshin sweep Kaoru up off of her feet, bridal style. There was an intense emotion in his violet eyes, turning them the purest blue. Judging by the way Kaoru was blushing, Misao would bet her kunai skills that she had seen that look before and knew exactly what it meant. Now, if only her Aoshi-sama would look at her that way.

They were staying in an inn located in the middle of Tokyo, a few blocks away from the Akabaeko. The lady who showed them to their rooms was clearly ogling Aoshi-again-but he seemed oblivious to her batting eyelashes and the flirtatious looks she was shooting his way.

- ~ -

Misao was running. There was somewhere she needed to be, she had to get to Aoshi-sama. He was in great danger, and only she could warn him. Turning a corner, Misao ducked down a small alley, hopped over an overturned cart and hung a left into an open doorway. She wove through what seemed to be a storehouse of some sort until she reached a battered Shoji door with a large, bloody hole in its center, about chest height for someone as tall as her Lord. Misao yanked the door open and ran inside, praying to whichever sympathetic gods were listening that she was not to late. She froze, eyes wide, as her mind processed the man pinned to the wall on the other end of the small room. Shinomori Aoshi stared back at her with lifeless, blank eyes, pinned to the wall through the chest by one of his double kodachi, the other still clenched in his left hand, which was hanging listlessly at his side. The only sound in the room was the steady drip, drip of his still warm blood as it trickled from the wound in his heart into a small, ruby puddle on the floor at his feet. No, it could not be. Her Aoshi-sama was dead.

"NOOOOOO! AOSHI-SAMAAAA!"

There was a crash, and then Aoshi was in her room, double kodachi drawn, looking for the enemy that he was sure was about to kidnap his Misao. But, there was no enemy, no threat, just Misao in bed, clearly having the nightmare of all nightmares. Sheathing his weapons, he moved over to his Misao and took her in his arms. "Misao, wake up," he said, denying the fear and alarm that wanted to creep into his voice. "Wake up, Misao. It is only a dream. Its not real, Misao, so wake up koishii."

Her eyes opened slowly and Aoshi could see that she had mostly returned to this world. But the dream was still with her, as well as the shakes and the urge to be absolutely certain that it was her Aoshi-sama and not his ghost who held her. Her hands grasped frantically at the front of his sleeping yukata, pulling it apart so that she could frantically run her hands over the smooth, unmarred skin of his chest and over his heart.

"Misao," he questioned, his calm voice providing an anchor for his frightened ward and soothing her. "What are you doing?"

Misao was breathless, the cold sweat on her brow beginning to make her shiver. "Its not here," she mumbled, more to herself than the man who's chest she had her hands on. "Its not here, you're not hurt."

Suddenly, she was wrapping herself around him, one hand tangling in his soft hair, and the other reaching around his back under his shirt to pull her to him. "You're alive," she breathed into his shoulder.

Baffled, Aoshi simply held her as the storm passed. But when he attempted to disentangle himself from her, she clutched at him with desperation and pleaded with him to stay. One night could not hurt, he reasoned, so he climbed onto the bed with her and settled between the sheets, trying not to imagine how this would look if someone were to come in right now. Aoshi reminded himself that they were at an inn in Tokyo, not at the Aoiya, and no one was going to barge in. Never the less, he would leave once he was sure she was asleep. Beside him, Misao let out a contented sigh and snuggled closer.

- ~ -

Misao cornered him in practice dojo of the Aoiya. A few weeks had passed since her and Aoshi's return to Kyoto, yet, things between her and Aoshi still had not changed. Sliding the door shut with a snap to alert him to her presence, but surely he already knew she was there, she advanced towards him with a determined air about her features. Aoshi surprised them both by allowing himself to be literally backed into a corner by his small ward, who now stood between him and his only means of escape while wearing an expression on her face that told him she was not going to take no for an answer. Settling himself in for a battle of wills, Aoshi waited for her to speak. He did not have to wait long; Misao was never one for patience.

"Why are you avoiding me?" Direct, straight to the point, no sneaking around the bush. Typical Misao, Aoshi noted with amusement.

"I have not been—" Aoshi patiently began to deny her accusation when she cut him off.

"You have been. As my Okashira, you have every right to dismiss me. But as a man and my friend, you owe it to me to tell me your reasons."

Misao stepped closer, further invading his personal space. "I heard you, that night at the inn."

They both knew that she was referring to the time he had comforted her after her nightmares in Tokyo. Misao licked her dry lips, providing Aoshi with a tantalizing glimpse of pink. "How can you call me that and then come back here and act as if nothing has changed?"

"Call you what, Misao?" Aoshi asked, half of him hoping that she would just forget about his little slip of the tongue. The other half, the part he tried very hard to suppress, wanted her to repeat it back to him, to hear that word roll off of her lips.

"Koishii."

The proverbial dam broke. Aoshi's carefully maintained restraint, all his reasons for not involving himself romantically with Misao, who he realized was now too old to truly be called his young ward anymore, went up in smoke. He stepped closer, eliminating the small gap between then and bending to bring them nose to nose.

Their fist meeting of lips was chaste, more like the whisper of a kiss than an actual kiss. Misao's lips parted regardless and she pressed herself up against him, increasing the contact and deepening the kiss. Aoshi's tongue darted out to brush against hers and Misao let out a soft, breathy moan. The sound brought him to his senses and he broke away, more than a little overwhelmed. He really should leave, right now, before things got out of hand and he did something he would regret later. Not that he would not regret this action, he would. Misao just looked so beautiful with her eyes misted over with desire and pleasure. He could not find it in himself to feel guilty, yet.

Aoshi looked down when he tried to move away, only to find that he could not. Misao's hands were fisted in the material of his gi, her eyes gazing up at him with an intensity that sent all shivers running up his spine. His male pride allowed him a brief internal smirk while that darker side of him imagined what she would look like in a less innocent situation. Aoshi shook himself, hard. This was Misao, he reminded himself, not some random street girl from the city.

"Aoshi-sama," breathed the woman currently standing before him. A slight tug on his shirt brought him down to sitting position against the wall, Misao cradled in his lap. She muttered something that sounded like "finally" before allowing her head to fall against his shoulder.

A cold breeze feathering his chest caused Aoshi to realize that Misao had managed to get her hands inside the open front of his gi. The little temptress was currently tracing absent-minded patterns over his pectorals, steadily driving him closer to the line he refused to cross; at least, for the time being. Gently, Aoshi untangled himself and stood.

"I should go, before this..." He allowed the sentence to hang between them, both a promise and a warning.

Misao nodded and busied herself with her sash, which suddenly required a great deal of attention to retie around her waist. Just as he was reaching to open the door, Misao's voice, filled with that determination she had possessed when she stormed into the Dojo ten minutes ago, reached his ears. Aoshi turned back to face her with a raised eyebrow.

"You will not avoid me." It was a command, not a demand or even a request. Her tone was firm, but the sparkle in her eyes promised delicious punishment, should he be so inclined to disobey her commands.

Aoshi nodded at her, allowing a small smile to grace his lips. With that, he left the disheveled Misao alone in the Aoiya dojo while he set off in search of a very cold shower.

En Fin

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Wow, that did not go in the direction I expected it to. I originally had a different title for the story, but it didn't fit when I was finished, so I had to change it. Well, tell me what you think. Please, please review.


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